


Not So Traditional

by Processpending



Series: A Mister, A Mistress and a God [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Belly Kink, Belly Rubs, F/M, Frostpudding, M/M, Multi, Pregnant Sex, Reader-Insert, Threesome - F/M/M, Weight Gain, chubby loki
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-30
Updated: 2019-12-30
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:21:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22029259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Processpending/pseuds/Processpending
Summary: It's December 1st, which means it's time for the traditional pajama exchange.This year, Loki helped you pick out the ones for Tom, while Tom has yours and Loki's all picked out. With you eight months pregnant with twins and Loki steadily gaining weight Tom made sure that this year's pajamas were extra special.
Relationships: Loki (Marvel)/Reader, Tom Hiddleston/Loki, Tom Hiddleston/Loki/Reader, Tom Hiddleston/Reader
Series: A Mister, A Mistress and a God [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1553257
Comments: 5
Kudos: 35





	Not So Traditional

**Author's Note:**

> Merry Christmas! This is my gift to you and it's not late, rather it's perfectly time. You've opened all your presents and the shiny newness has worn off so let me give you one more to keep the spirit going a little longer.

None of you were sure when it turned into a tradition. 

It was the first of December and you were on the couch between Loki and Tom, dinner had just finished and you were looking forward to a quiet evening with both your boys when Tom set his book aside and rose. 

“Dessert?” Loki’s voice was hopeful even though moments before he’d complained about being too full to make it from the table to the couch. Only Tom pulling him up from the chair, muffling his protests with kisses, hands slipping under the straining shirt to rub the taut sides, got him to the couch.

Loki’s eyes lit when Tom returned with two wrapped packages, pushing himself up he grunted softly, pressing a hand to the side of his belly, your lips twitching. Tom caught Loki around the waist as he passed, keeping him long enough to press another hungry kiss to his lips, a prelude of what waited you. Tom’s hand drifted down, squeezing Loki’s plush hip, the mage’s protest and squirm breaking the kiss. 

“ _Thomas._ ” With a peck the man lets him go. Loki disappears down the hall, he’d gone with you to pick out Tom’s gift for the evening and you thought he may have been almost as excited to give it as he was to open his. 

Tom settled next to you, nuzzling your neck as he stroked the curve of your belly, with eight weeks to go you still had plenty of growing to do. Tom’s hand slipped lower, teasing the waistband of your pants, bucking your hips the best you could. Loki returns before his fingers do more than graze your lips, already slick from his touch. 

As though he could flip a switch Tom leaned back, stretching his arm across the couch he exchanged packages with Loki before passing yours to you. You pouted up at Tom, you wanted more, you _needed_ more.

“After. I want to see you in them.” Tom counters. You both turn your attention to Loki, the silent offer for him to go first. The paper is a deep green, an elegant gold bow complimenting it. The wrapping doesn’t last long and soon Loki is unfolding his new pajamas, specially selected for him as had become their accidental tradition. 

Loki frowns in confusion as the fabric unfolds longer and longer rather than being the two pieces he’s accustomed to finding on such occasions.

“It’s a combination, a-” Tom falters for the word.

“Onesie!” You supply with such glee that Loki looks suspicious. “Oh, it’s _soft_.” You rub the fabric between your fingers, this wasn’t something Tom had just picked up in one of the shops, he’d put thought into what he’d wanted to see Loki in this year which made you all the more anxious to open yours. 

It’s your turn, the wrapping a deep purple, silver curls of ribbon bouncing as you slide them off. Inside equally deep purple fabric waits you, silky smooth it slips through your fingers at first. Pulling it out you find a band of fabric, thin straps indicating it’s the top, the pants are equally soft and billowing. 

Finally it’s Tom’s turn, you and Loki turning to him, enjoying Tom admire the wrapping. Loki had picked the wrapping paper, galaxy with black and silver ribbons twined together. Tom’s eyebrows rose when all he found within was a pair of silken sleep pants, so deep blue they were nearly black. 

The three of you exchange grins before you and Loki head down the hall to change, leaving Tom to strip in the living room. You take the bedroom, drawing the fabric out you suspend the top between two fingers, wondering what Tom was up to. It doesn’t take long for you to get changed, the top surprisingly comfortable, the fabric cool and soft against your tender breasts, the pants snugged up under your belly. Glancing in the mirror you see exactly what Tom had in mind, you looked like a very pregnant gypsy, your stomach bare for easy appreciation.

You waddle back down the hall, finding Tom and Loki waiting for you and you can’t stop your eyes from darting between the two. It had been Loki who’d questioned _why_ you had to find Tom a top to match the bottoms, while at the time you had thought it would be odd come December first now you’re very grateful to his suggestion. The pants riding low on his slim hips has you aching; you’re not sure how you’ll make it to Christmas. And then there’s Loki, the deep green offsetting the thin gold pinstripe nicely,the lines accentuating the curve of his belly. Tom had either had forethought or, more likely, knew his greedy god, as the onesie was at least one size too big, though Loki didn’t look any less dashing for it. 

“(Y/N).” Loki and Tom breathe your name, their eyes blown wide at the sight of you. They descend on you as one. 

You’re back in the bedroom, Loki pressed against your back, his hands roaming up and down your sides, his thumbs bruising the underside of your breasts, sending shivers through your body with each caress. Your arousal is apparent through the thin fabric, Tom sucking on your nipple through the thin fabric, your head tipping back as your breath hitches. 

“I nuh...nuh...uggh.” You pant, your fingers ghosting over the planes of Tom’s stomach and back, his skin flush beneath your fingers.

“What do you need? Tell me.” You whimper at the loss of his mouth on you, Loki’s hand deftly slipping under the fabric to roll the other nipple between his finger and thumb. 

“Someone’s greedy.” He purrs in your ear as you writhe against them.

“You. Need...you.” You grit the words out, a whimper torn from your throat as Tom slips his hand into the top of your waist band, thumbs rubbing circles. If he won’t give it to you, you’ll make him take it. You whirl out of his touch and face Loki, a frustrated huff when you’re met with fabric instead of skin. 

Loki ducks, muffling your annoyance with his mouth as your fingers fumble with the zipper, pulling it down only far enough to slip you hands inside, one roughly palming his heavy stomach while the other slips below, finding his stiffened cock bobbing against his belly. 

The position is awkward, both your bellies getting in the way and preventing you from being as close as you want, from taking what you _need_. Tom’s fingers slip inside you, hot and filling and hitting the spot that makes you weak in the knees and before you know it he’s got you in his arms, laying you on the bed, stretching out beside you, a predatory grin on his face as his fingers play with your slick folds before he jams them inside you again. The sensation has you coming, arcing as much as your belly allows. 

Your toes are still curled, body loose with the release when Loki’s lips close around your nipple, sucking and nipping and starting you all over again.

You may not make it through the next few weeks, but what a way to go.

o~O~o

It was the Sunday before Christmas which meant it had been cookie baking day. Christmas music had played softly while batch after batch of cookies was made until nearly every surface in the kitchen was covered in confections, but that wasn’t what was holding your attention.

Loki had been stealing cookies from each batch, citing they were best when warm, then that your breasts were ready to leak if he didn’t suckle and what was cookies if there wasn’t milk to wash them down. Tom hadn’t helped matters, nibbling a cookie to see if he liked the flavor before passing it off to Loki, stroking his belly as the mage happily munched another sweet. 

After dinner meant pajama time and you were all too happy to help each other don the special clothing. It was more fun undressing Tom, sucking hickeys across his chest as you and Loki worked your way down. There was something about the sight of Tom in just sleep pants that drove you wild and you had to restrain yourself from tearing them off as soon as he got them on.

Next came Loki and your favorite part, zipping up the front of his onesie. It had been getting a little harder each night over the past week, Tom had first caught your eye as he was doing up the zipper, ducking his head to hide his grin and you realized this had been his intent all along. He could’ve easily bought it two sizes too big, but he _wanted_ Loki to grow out of it. He _hoped_ Loki would and if you were honest, so did you.

You weren’t sure it was going to make it over the swell tonight, though Loki didn’t seem to have any idea that it was getting ridiculously snug around his belly as well as his ass. Tom was unabashedly watching as you did up the zipper, easily sliding up over his crotch and under the curve, it was when you reached his belly button, the roundest part of his stomach that it got stuck. The teeth gaped away from each other and you feared the progress you’d made so far would suddenly pull apart as well.

Loki noticed you’d stopped, peering down at you only served to soften his chin and you briefly entertained the idea of abandoning the zipper and just nibbling the soft underside of his jaw. And you would if you knew how Loki would take outgrowing his Christmas jammies. 

Even after all these months you still couldn’t always predict how Loki would handle outgrowing clothes. It got easier as more things were replaced, old clothes only serving as a harsh reminder of just how big his belly and ass and thighs had all gotten. Not that you were complaining. 

But Christmas pajamas were the closest thing to sacred you thought the god found on this earth and you’d be damned if that was ruined for him. 

So, you do what all good wives do when they need to distract their god, they employ their mouth. 

You press your lips right over his sensitive belly button, lips curling when he presses his stomach into your touch and inch the zipper up a few more teeth. You trail kisses and hickeys over his belly, using each distraction to convince a few more teeth through the zipper until it’s over the swell and smoothly fastening up his front. 

All dressed, you waddle down the hall, Loki and Tom following you for a movie and cuddling that will have you wet and begging before the movie’s end. Tom tucks himself into one end of the couch, legs spread wide for you to lean back against him, Loki at the other end, your feet tucked against him as his stomach fills his lap. 

Loki’s deft fingers find the muscle in the back of your legs that’s been paining you, smoothing it out with his thumbs in strokes that are equal parts pain and pleasure while Tom rubs the bare expanse of your belly, thumb grazing the underside of your breast, eliciting shivers each time. 

Just when you’re gathering your wits to shut the movie off and move things to the bedroom Tom is easing you forward, sliding his way around you. 

“I’m feeling peckish.” You raise an eyebrow at that, in all the time you’ve been together Tom has rarely felt _peckish_. It’s no surprise when he returns with the tub of cookies and milk. He passes Loki the milk under the guise of needing a free hand to resume his position, selecting one cookie from the tub he passes it down to Loki who wedges it on the couch between you two. 

You roll your head back on Tom’s shoulder, a questioning look in your eyes but the man feigns absorbment in the movie. Two can play that game. 

You say nothing as Loki munches his way through cookie after cookie, long drags of milk washing them down. It’s when Loki’s stomach lets out a particularly painful sounding gurgle does Tom “acknowledge”.

“You ok, Lo?” _Give this man an Oscar_. You think, fighting to hide the smile at the innocence in his tone, as though Loki slumped low on the couch, hands bracketing his clearly stuffed belly, wasn’t his intention all along. 

“This is your fault Thomas.” Loki pouts and you fight to contain your smile.

“Let me make it up to you with belly rubs?” Tom offers, Loki perking up at the offer. Tom slides from behind you once more.

Tom hauls the god to his feet, Loki’s hands dropping to cradle his belly but the shift in weight is all it takes for the zipper to give way. His pale belly, ribboned with fresh stretch marks can no longer be contained, pushing past the sides of his onesie, the zipper holding above and below.

Color rises high on Loki’s cheeks and you can see the emotions flashing across his face, the embarrassment made all the worse by the feeling of being trapped, the realization that he’s not only too fat to fit into his gift any longer, but that his gluttony burst him from it. 

Loki tries to waddle past but you catch his hand as he goes by, tugging gently in a plea to get him to turn. You don’t think he will but he glances down at you and sees the earnest love in your eyes, the need and want there too. Your other hand reaches out, turning him until he’s facing you and you nuzzles his belly, the skin taut as you press your nose into it. Ducking your head you drag your tongue along the tender underside, coming up to suck on his flattened belly button, hoping if you suck hard enough it will finally pop.

His fingers tangle in your hair, pressing you closer, urgent for more. 

“Belly get so big your pajamas don’t fit?” Tom’s voice is low, pressed against Loki’s back his hands stroke up and down the bowed sides of Loki’s stomach. “Guess we’ll have to get you some like (Y/N).” You don’t mean to but you groan at the image, at the idea of him parading his big, pale belly around, of how you would make sure it was always full so it would stay high and tight, only in the mornings would it be softened from digesting overnight. 

It takes a little maneuvering but you free Loki’s cock, guiding his length to your mouth, he thrust forward at the sensation, his belly forcing it from your mouth. You take it again, alternately sucking and grazing your teeth down the shaft, enjoying the tremors that wrack his body. 

You lose track of what Tom’s doing, you can hear husky murmurs but can’t make out the words, together you bring Loki to completion, the god spilling his seed in your mouth. You lean back and find Tom has taken Loki from behind, their clothes on the floor at their feet, Tom’s fingers digging into Loki’s plush hips as he rides out his own orgasm. 

You’re not sure how this came to be a tradition, but you’ll make damn sure to do it again next year.

**Author's Note:**

> What do you think? Make this part of your December tradition? Like, come back every December 1st and reread this?  
> Yeah, I wouldn't either lol.  
> Anyway, thanks for making it this far! I wrote this in just a couple hours and then posted it so anything off chalk up to that.  
> Kudos and/or comments always welcome!


End file.
